


Let Me Hear

by Abyssiniana



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Nudity, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Shendak, Trauma, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 11:32:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14748006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abyssiniana/pseuds/Abyssiniana
Summary: «Takashi Shirogane was filthy, and no amount of company water and generic shower gel brand would change that.»___Drabble prompt: "Shiro shower scene"





	Let Me Hear

**Author's Note:**

> This began with a wide range of possibilities based off [this Instagram post](https://www.instagram.com/p/BjLGgezFft0/?taken-by=kihyunryu) by Kihyun Ryu; it was supposed to be a simple, reflective shower scene starring our boy Shiro, but it escalated and I'm only partially regretting this.  
> I was informed of the existence of [this art](http://volpr0nart.tumblr.com/post/150469432461/vrepit-sa) moments after I shared this, so allow me to drop off a little credit to [the artist](http://volpr0nart.tumblr.com/) as well!

Water ran down a body that didn't know how much it missed something as trivial as a shower. It had been taken as granted his whole life, until it was denied during his imprisonment, and later deemed unnecessary and primitive, with the alternative provided by Altean technology that consisted of quick and effective disinfecting vapors. Now that they had taken a much-needed break and returned to Earth for a temporary vacation, Shiro realized just how dirty he had been feeling.

 

His sore muscles didn't twitch at the violent contact with the icy droplets, head leaning against the tile wall in front of him. From that angle, he framed the bare image of his marked torso, thighs and feet, a canvas brushed with scars of battles and untreated wounds trying to wash away what could not be forgotten. As if the Galra prosthetic, both a weapon and a constant phantom ache, wasn't enough of a reminder.

 

**"Say it, Champion. Say it."**

 

Shiro pressed his lips together into a thin line, chewing on them out of frustration. No. Not again. The deepest scar in him, the one that was so far away yet not one step closer from healing.

 

_He was filthy._

 

The Black Paladin rolled his shoulders back in attempt to straighten himself, his spine erect in a military trained posture; the running water pooled at his feet and he gently swayed them so he could feel the waves crashing against the porcelain of the tub and then right back at his ankles.

 

Hypnotized by the motion, he briefly closed his eyes, sanity pulling at its last strings so that he could hold onto something as invisible as his valiance and self-confidence.

 

_Their hands, huge; his own, bound. His teary eyelids flickered open, but his eyes rolled backwards in haziness with the lack of capability to focus. Had he passed out...? Not much had changed since his last recollection; his body was bouncing, his ass numbed by ceaseless intrusion, his throat sore, hair damp against his forehead. Even so far from Earth, depravity knew no limits._

_He had been ravished into hell by those disgusting animals, several of these purple alien creatures taking turns on him as a prize, and now it was the Commander's turn. Sendak, they called him, guttural voice barely audible over the buzzing on Shiro's ears, even as the Galra tugged on his forelock, cyborg eye scanning him for God knows whatever made him grin in such a pleased manner._

_What had they given him...?_

_Please... Please, stop this madness; let me go home._

 

**"You said it so well, last time."**

 

_There was a mouth on him, tongue heavy like sandpaper on his collarbone and then chest, uncaring but desperate for every involuntary response his body gave. Shiro tried to jerk free but he was being pinned down by a body so much larger than his own. There was warmth against him, fur, the pungent smell of something between wet dog and bitter sweat invading his nostrils with the same onslaught as the claws that held him down by the hips. His voice manifested in the form of a whimper when the creature above him ground downwards. When Shiro moved his sore jaw was punched slack, blood pooling inside his mouth when he had no strength to spit it out._

 

**"You want to be a bad little slut and have me fucking the words out of you?"**

 

_Handled like a rag doll, he was moved around, whatever drug the Galra had injected into him rendering his limbs useless to the commands of his brain. Ass up, he might've whimpered, but was silenced by the harsh snapping of a cock thickening and curling inside him in ways his studies of human anatomy could not discern. All he could think was that it hurt, it hurt so bad, but he could not - would **not** give this fucker the satisfaction of- o-oh..._

 

**"I'll make you say it, Champion...!"**

 

Takashi Shirogane was filthy, and no amount of company water and generic shower gel brand would change that.

 

**"Say it..."**

 

Almost obsessively, Shiro began rubbing his skin, the intensity of the gesture burning him even with the chilling water that coated him. Not enough, not enough, so _dirty._ Sendak's voice itched behind his ear, his presence tattooed underneath his skin and so deep inside him. Scrubbing at himself, Shiro added nails, crescent red moons becoming clouds of blood on his forearm and chest and belly and thighs, if only he could reach that hidden layer, if he could only wash it all away from underneath, God, _please--_

 

**"Say it for me, you puny human..."**

 

"NO!" His breath hitched and his tears fused with the water that still rained from the shower head above him. He might've yelled as he bent over himself, _but his voice had been lost, and his memory took him back to an abnormally long tongue curling around his own to stop him from screaming, submission being fucked into him and oh so freaking good--_

 

**"SAY IT!"**

 

Shiro pulled his arm back, prosthetic hand curling into a fist that tore a wide hole in the wall in front of him, the tiles cracking and sinking into the water. He fell onto his knees, mouth agape as he pitifully panted.

 

Takashi Shirogane was filthy, and he couldn't wash away the dirt in his mouth.

 

_"... Vrepit... sa."_


End file.
